The Slytherin Song (Christmas Don't Be Late)
by HollyBrianne
Summary: One-shot holiday crack fluff. / Veritaserum or Dare- a drunk game in which the Slytherins put on a show and Draco reveals his heart. / Dramione, eighth year, christmas


**A/N: **I wrote and posted this on AO3 for Dramione Fanfiction Forum's Christmas in July challenge, and only just now getting around to cross-posting. The challenge was a short story inspired by your favorite Christmas song. So please listen to the Chipmunks Christmas song before or while reading this, and try not to judge me for admitting that this is legitimately my favorite Christmas song!

Merry (almost) Christmas!

* * *

"Alright you Slytherins, are you ready to go to bed?"

Draco doesn't quite remember how Harry Potter became his pseudo babysitter in the Hogwarts eighth year common room on Christmas eve 1998. Perhaps it has something to do with Weasley's current preoccupation with the mouth of one Lavender Brown. Possibly it's related to Blaise and Theo's generally debaucherous influence. Most likely it's because, on the snake side of the table, they had gone through a bottle and a half of firewhisky, while the lion side had only one glass each.

"Bed?" Blaise shouts, nearly blowing out Draco's left eardrum. "I'll say when I'm ready for bed."

"I'll go if someone's joining me," Theo adds from Draco's right, at equal volume. Now they have the rapt attention of the entire common room. Blaise seems unashamed. Theo is preening. Draco, as usual, is sour.

"Okay, Zabini. I think we're done with that." Potter makes to grab Blaise's glass.

"Okay, Potter," Blaise says with a smirk, just before he downs the last inch of amber liquid. "I am done now, thanks for clearing for me."

Potter visibly grits his teeth, then turns to Theo. "Okay, Theodore?"

"Don't call me Theodore," Theo growls, but it's more playful than angry. He passes off the half-empty bottle of firewhisky, and with a flick of his wand, he produces a bottle of wine. He holds Potter's eye contact and takes a long sip.

"Oh would you two just fuck already," Blaise says, sounding bored. Theo smacks his lips in reply.

"Okay, Malfoy?" Potter says, choosing to ignore the others. "Malfoy?"

But Draco's concentration is now directed at one thing and one thing only: the untouched glass of firewhisky at the spot next to Potter.

Alright, two things: the untouched glass, and the bookish girl to whom it belongs.

"Malfoy!" Potter's voice snaps him out of his trance.

"Okay!" Draco pushes his glass forward, sloshing what's left of his drink onto the table.

"How about," Blaise starts, and leaps to his feet on the couch, "a round of Veritaserum or Dare to end the night?"

"And how exactly is that played?" Potter asks. Sometimes it's painfully obvious that he was raised with muggles.

Weasley manages to unhook himself from his parasite to answer. "Someone asks a question and the rest of the group has to answer. You take an oath so if you don't answer or if you try to lie, the game forces you to do a dare that the questioner picks."

"Fine," Potter agrees in a moment. "But I'm going to ask the question."

Blaise rubs his hands together and lets out an honest-to-Merlin squeal. "Make it good, Potter. The nastier, the better." The three Slytherins each take their oaths and a swig of wine.

Potter wrinkles his nose. "What do you want for Christmas?"

"That's it? Of all the..." Blaise retorts. "You want to know our Christmas lists?"

"If you don't want to answer, you can just sing us a song." Potter shrugs.

Theo lets out a snort of laughter; he already knows what's coming next.

"I'll do you one better," Blaise says with a smirk. "I'll do both." He clears his throat.

"__Christmas, Christmas time is near. Time for wine and time for beer.__"

Theo jumps up and wraps an arm around his friend and takes over.

"__We've been good, but we can't last. Find a partner, have a blast.__" He punctuates the line with an enthusiastic pelvic thrust.

The boys begin to harmonize. "__Want lovers to grab our hips...__"

Draco, compelled by the magic of the game, adds a quiet, sing-songy sigh. "__Me, I want to taste Granger's lips.__"

Theo and Blaise carry on. "__We can hardly stand the wait. Please, Christmas don't be late.__"

The common room bursts into laughter. "Alright fellas." Potter waves everyone off. "That was very good, Zabini."

"I know." Blaise throws a wink towards Parvati's end of the table. There's a renewed titter from that direction.

"Real lovely, Theodore."

"I SAID-" Theo starts at Harry.

"Malfoy, you were a little flat." Ron interrupts with a lopsided grin.

"I'll flatten you..." Draco mumbles and lunges for Ron.

Harry tries to pull him back. "Malfoy? Malfoy!"

Blaise and Theo position themselves between Draco and Weasley and pick back up on their chorus. "__Paramours to find our bliss!__"

"__I'm still wanting Granger's kiss!__" Draco whines, unable to help himself.

"__We can hardly stand the wait. Please, Christmas don't be late. We can hardly stand the wait. Please, Christmas don't be late.__"

Blaise and Theo take a dramatic bow and the rest of the students erupt in wild applause.

"Very good, boys. Now come to bed before your screeching brings Filch down on us."

"Is that an invitation to your bed, Potter?" Theo says.

"Okay, let's not overdo it." Potter has his hands out in a placating stance.

"Did you say you want to do it? Because then I might let you call me Theodore."

"I didn't-"

Theo tries to lean in but falls in a slump to the couch.

Potter blinks and takes a step back. He backhands Weasley on the arm. "You take this one, mate."

"Alright," he chuckles. "Hey, Hermione. Give us a hand, yeah?" Ron then grabs the wine bottle and dangles it in front of Theo, leading him to the dorms. "Here, Nott. Come and get it!" Meanwhile, Potter picks up Blaise and supports him at the shoulders, half walking and half dragging him away.

Draco covers his face in his hands and moans into his palms. "Did I just sing? Fuck. Did I really just sing about kissing Granger?"

He thinks he's alone until he hears a response. "Yeah. You really did."

Because of all the alcohol, his ears sound like they're stuffed with cotton, so he's not sure exactly who spoke. He can hear she's a girl. And he can hear she's amused.

He groans again. "Do you think she heard?"

There's a pause. Draco thinks his classmate might have left so he pulls his hands off his eyes. But he's not alone. He's looking into a pair of chocolate brown eyes.

"Merlin kill me now."

"You would die before getting to taste my lips?" Granger asks. Those lips start to curve up at the ends. Perhaps she's just teasing. Possibly she's in the forgiving spirit of the season. Or maybe, just maybe, she wants it, too. Is it just the firewhisky messing with his head? There's only one way to know.

He leans in.


End file.
